


Girls Always Go To The Bathroom Together

by leiascully



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Community: smut_tuesdays, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-04
Updated: 2007-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Let's get out of here," she whispers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girls Always Go To The Bathroom Together

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: 3.10 "A Benihana Christmas"  
> A/N: So I was watching "A Benihana Christmas" and knitting, and then Pam turned to Karen and said, "I just got goosebumps", and I threw the needles down and wrote girlslash.   
> Disclaimer: _The Office_ and all related characters are property of Greg Daniels, Ben Silverman, NBC, etc. No infringement intended.

They fuck on the couch in the women's bathroom, giddy on margaritas and success. The karaoke's going great, even Angela looks happy, and Kelly's turned out to be a decent bartender. The members of the Committee to Plan Parties look at each other and preen a little. Kevin picks up the mike and Pam whispers, "Oh God, more angry girl rock," just too close to Karen's ear and Karen shoves her with an insolent hip against the bathroom door.

"Let's get out of here," she whispers.

They crowd in like schoolgirls, both of them tugging at the other, but it's Karen who backs up against the door and locks it, and Pam who drags her down to the couch. Their lips are red with artificial color and Karen has a grain of coarse salt at the corner of her mouth that Pam licks away, lingeringly. They can hear Kevin droning over the party chatter and the water noise in the pipes, and the fabric of the couch rubs their skin rough. Karen tastes like tropical punch and Pam tastes like candy canes and their hands are everywhere, fumbling under each other's clothes, Pam half in Karen's lap, busy hands undoing buttons and smoothing wrinkles and laying shirts and sweaters out over the back of the couch so they won't crease. They've both lost their shoes by the door.

They are canny, as if they've done this a thousand times. Karen shimmies off the couch and out of her trousers, throwing them over a stall door. Pam unzips her skirt and hooks it on a coat hook. Karen pushes Pam up against the metal wall of the stall so that Pam hisses and arches her back against the chill. Her breasts fill Karen's hands as they kiss. They are fierce with each other, nipping and licking, insistent, the tension of the past weeks crackling around them.

"We only have this song," Pam gasps. "They'll look for us."

"Let's make it happen," says Karen, and slides down Pam's thighs, working her panties off. Pam whimpers and throws her arm up, just managing to curl her fingers over the top of the stall.

"Wait," she chokes out. "I want to too." She urges Karen up, and they walk in a tangle of limbs to the couch, stepping out of scraps of lingerie, Karen's arm across Pam's back like the gilding on porcelain. The couch is too short and their legs sprawl over the ends, and just the recklessness of it, the not-fitting, is almost too much delight. Pam doesn't know what she's doing but she reaches and Karen is there, hot, slick, rubbing against Pam's fingers. Karen pushes herself down Pam's body like a diver looking for pearls, her long hair twisted up with one hand so that it spills warm and glossy over Pam's thigh. Pam tips her head and touches the inside of Karen's knee, sliding Karen's leg over until she can kiss the smooth slope of Karen's thigh and the crease where it joins her hip. Her tongue flickers out experimentally and Karen whimpers, her own lips already pressed over some sweet spot Pam is certain Roy never found. Pam uses her fingertips, parts Karen's folds, presses into her carefully as she laps along the cleft. She knows the theory if not the practice: Roy wasn't fantastic, but he was willing. This is the new brave Pam and she thinks she's been aching for this all day. Karen tastes smoky, mysterious, and the delirium of bliss is starting to hit Pam as Karen begins to use her hands.

She'd say something, but there are better ways to use her mouth. Karen is kissing and kissing, her tongue rattling against Pam's clit, her fingers certain and knowing. Pam's hands and lips are less certain, but she catches on fast, and Karen's squirming just as much as Pam is, the two of them a continuum of girlflesh, bronze and pale and writhing in sudden ecstasy. Karen comes first with a shudder that makes the couch rock, one of its feet tapping on the tile, but she pushes through, clutching at Pam's thighs, and then Pam's gasping and moving under her, her teeth pressed into Karen's thigh as she tries not to cry out.

"God, I needed that," Karen sighs, doing a quick flip so that her head is on Pam's shoulder.

"Me too," Pam says, and touches each knot of Karen's spine so that Karen shivers.

They wash their hands at the sink, sudsing carefully around painted fingernails and the bones at the wrist. Karen is breathless, giddy. Pam is solemn but a high flush is painted over her cheekbones, and Karen leans in to kiss Pam's neck, just to watch in the mirror as Pam's head tips back and her eyes drift closed. They dress each other carefully, retracing their steps across the bathroom. Pam's underwear is wedged down in the couch cushions and Karen slips her hands through the legs and palms the bit of cotton slowly up Pam's legs as Pam sighs on the edge of the couch. They find Karen's underwear in the sink and fold it into a paper towel before Karen slips it into her trouser pocket. Pam adjusts the collar of Karen's shirt, brushing the tops of her breasts with damp fingertips. Karen smooths Pam's skirt as an excuse to run her hand over Pam's ass. They turn their heads into a kiss as easy as breathing.

"Mmm," says Pam. "You should probably not kiss Jim until you've drunk something else."

"Thanks," Karen says, and touches her slightly swollen lips. Her smile is as crooked and lovely as ever. "You too. Well, you know what I mean."

They rinse their mouths at the sink and check for smudged mascara and lipstick, not looking at each other but with their hips brushing.

"Good thing Kevin always draws it out," Pam says, her ear pressed to the door as she undoes the lock.

"Ah, so this is a thing? Kevin's empowering extended karaoke?" Karen lingers just behind her and Pam turns to look at her.

"Absolutely."

"Fantastic," Karen says quietly, and nudges against Pam as they open the door, all nonchalance. Kevin's just turning the mike over to Kelly. Karen looks sideways at Pam and grabs them each a drink.

"Thanks!" Pam says brightly, her eyes still huge and dark blue, pale except for lips and cheeks. Karen wants to see how many orgasms it would take to get that serious look off Pam's face. She touches the rim of her glass to Pam's and when they drink, eyes locked, it feels like a kiss. Pam looks over her shoulder with a tiny smile and catches Jim's eye. She tips her head at Karen and they sidle over to lean against the snack machine.

"Hey," says Jim, touching Karen's shoulder as he looks at Pam. "Where have you two been? Planning your next party?"

"Don't you know?" Pam says, tipping her chin at an insouciant angle. "Girls always go to the bathroom in pairs."

"Ah," says Jim, "one of the mysteries of life. Okay, women of enigma, keep your secrets."

Pam licks a grain of salt from the corner of her mouth and Karen grins.


End file.
